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Under the lordly monarch of the north,

Appear, and aid me in this enterprise!

This speedy and quick appearance argues proof

Of your accustom'd diligence to me.

Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd

Out of the powerful regions under earth,

Help me this once, that France may get the field.

They walk, and speak not.

O! hold me not with silence over-long.

Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,

I'll lop a member off and give it you,

In earnest of a further benefit,

So you do condescend to help me now.

They hang their heads.

No hope to have redress? My body shall

Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit.

They shake their heads.

Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice

Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?

Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all,

Before that England give the French the foil.

They depart.

See! they forsake me. Now the time is come,

That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest,

And let her head fall into England's lap.

My ancient incantations are too weak,

And hell too strong for me to buckle with:

Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust.

 6 monarch of the north; cf. n.

25 vail: lower

29 S. d. Burgundy and York fight; cf. n. 